It has been Plook's lifelong dream to become a Valley Girl. To that end, he needs to lose at least 10 I.Q. points, ideally 15. So he sits in front of his teenage bedroom mirror hour after hour repeating "Oh...My...Gawd," trying to find the perfect pitch, tone and degree of nasality. He wants ever so badly to be noticed by the Biebster at his next blockbuster concert.

You know, it takes time to craft these clever lies. Meanwhile Caputh clocks in with a dumb one-liner that my cat could have made up. As a matter of fact, that might explain the unusual deposits in my cat's credit card box these last few months.

Pope Jim's cat is called Francis. Plook catnapped him and, in the belief that he was the reincarnation of Frank Vincent, he played him early Zappa, but the cat seemed strangely obsessed with Giotto murals instead.

_________________"I have learned from my mistakes, and I am sure I can repeat them exactly."

Caputh's obsession with Disco Boy will be his undoing. An army of dittoheads, teabaggers and Canadian Randites will soon descend upon Deutschland and declare the Fourth Reich. The Big Lie shall set you free. Heil, Isaac!

Pope Jim is already making plans to smuggle out Isaacites after their inevitable defeat by the overwhelming Socialist/Marxist/Keynesianite forces. He knows he's going to need 'em sometime. Instead of South America, he plans to transport them undercover to Ugley, Essex where they will work as tax lawyers.

_________________"I have learned from my mistakes, and I am sure I can repeat them exactly."

Plook was skating around Palo Alto when Kapt Kirk stumbled out of the park and approached him. Kirk's face was painted dayglow orange and blue, which caused Plook to laugh out loud. "What's up, Kap'n ?""You're either on the BART or off the BART", Kirk informed him. "Okay", Plook said. " I just need to get to the Safeway in Walnut Creek." "Take 2 drops of this", replied Kirk, handing him a vial of clear liquid. Plook was last seen in the produce aisle trying on different sizes of organic grapefruit.

All the kids in Plook's neighborhood are crying. Plook shot the Easter bunny and had a barbecue. All the chocolates and jelly beans went into a special dessert fondue. Today it's egg salad sandwiches and Carta Blancas. Plook invites you all to come over and flatulate.

Plook sent in his paperwork to Oral Roberts University. He hopes to become a karma mechanic. Now he paces his backyard, waiting for his phone to ring. Oral's son, Anal, will personally deliver the good/bad news. We're pulling for you, Plook!

Plook sold all of his snot rocket technology to North Korea. That should set back their war-making efforts by at least ten years. President Obama wants to give Plook the Medal of Freedom, but his advisors say no, it'll just tip off the Koreans earlier. So instead Plook gets to caddy a round of golf for Joe Biden and play frisbee with the White House mutt..

Plook's afternoon of golf with Joe Biden was a disaster. The VP ignored every word of his caddy's advice. Biden only parred once on the first nine holes and it went downhill from there. He was last seen chasing Plook with a five iron across the fourteenth hole fairway, screaming *SPAM* in a husky falsetto.

Plook went to see Spamalot when the road show passed through his little cow town. He didn't get it. He thought he was taking the Mrs. to a new all-you-can-eat restaurant and a fucking musical broke out.

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